Not Exactly A Shiny Knight
by Charlie'sLostVampire
Summary: Jemma Simmons is a princess. Leo Fitz is just a kitchen boy. But who's to say a kitchen boy can't prove to be the shiniest knight of them all?


If you asked him, it was a bloody stupid tradition. Taking your only daughter and locking her in a tower for eight years to determine a man worthy enough to marry her? In his opinion, she should be given the right to pick her own husband- but that wasn't how things worked for royalty.

Leopold Fitz worked in the palace kitchens. He'd worked there with his father from the time he was old enough to walk, fetching bowls of flour and beating on bread dough with his tiny fists. Of course, because he was born into a family of kitchen workers and nursemaids, his fate was fairly simple; he would either remain a kitchen worker, or have the choice to become a stable boy instead. In short, he was destined for a life of servitude, and that would have been okay with him. He was a humble boy, and didn't desire riches or fame. He would have been perfectly content with baking bread and concocting new recipes, if he hadn't have met the princess.

You see, Leo's mother happened to be the little heiress's nursemaid. From the time she was born, it was her job to care for her while the queen tended to her queenly deeds, despite the fact that she had just had a child of her own- a son.

Leo and the princess were the same age, with only a month and a half separating their births. Thus, because his mother spent all of her time caring for the newborn princess, Leo's care fell into the hands of his father, which is why he virtually grew up working in the kitchens.

But, on a particular day when Leo was five, his father had fallen ill and he'd had no choice but to tag along with his mother while she tended to the young princess. The first thing he noticed, upon spotting her playing in the gardens, was that she was pretty. Being unused to playing with other children, Leo was painfully shy, and he hadn't known exactly what to do when the little girl raced toward him, her honey coloured curls and blue dress flying out behind her in the breeze.

"Nanny, Nanny!" she cried in reference to Leo's mother, her amber eyes shining with delight at the sight of Leo, "Have you brought someone for me to play with?"

"Indeed I have," his mother fondly told the girl, the _princess_, and she beamed further.

"Oh, lovely," she exclaimed, taking hold of Leo's hand, "I never have anyone fun to play with."

Leo was bewildered as she dragged him along to play in the flowers with her, watching with wide eyes as she plopped down in a patch of daisies. He noticed upon closer inspection that she had a dusting of freckles on her nose; either that or she'd managed to get dirt on it. He also noticed that she was still speaking, prattling on about all the games she knew how to play, and he only managed to catch the tail end of her spiel.

"-and jacks, and jump the rope, and my name is Jemma, by the way, and you're awfully quiet! Don't you know how to talk? Nanny says _I_ talk too much for a little princess, but I don't really think she minds. What's your name?"

His blue eyes still wide as saucers, Leo fumbled for the right words to say. One of his earliest memories was of his father telling him not to speak to anyone in the royal family, and now the _princess_ wanted him to talk to her, and _play_ with her. Was he allowed?

Swallowing nervously, he scratched his nose, squirming under the princess's expectant gaze. He couldn't really ignore a princess either, could he? He could get in big trouble for that. Maybe, just this one time, he didn't have to obey the "keep quiet as a wee mouse" rule.

"M' name's Leopold. But the sir, m' father, calls me Leo."

"You _can_ talk!" the princess, Jemma, cried with excitement, her amber eyes glittering as she bounced on her knees in the patch of daisies, "And you sound just like Nanny! Well, not just like her, because you are a boy, but you say words the same way that Nanny does- and I like your name! Leopold is a very, very nice name. But I do like Leo better."

"Me too," he confessed with a little grin, and Jemma grinned back, her eyes twinkling further.

"Do you know any fun games?" she asked, bouncing again, and Leo quickly shook his head.

"I don't play games; the sir says I'd be too noisy. 'Can't go disturbing the royals,' he says."

"Mummy and Daddy?" Jemma asked, furrowing her brow at the term, and Leo bobbed his head in a timid nod. "Oh, but they wouldn't mind! I play games all of the time and they don't mind one bit. Don't worry, I can teach you lots of games!"

"But the sir-"

"We don't have to tell _your_ daddy," Jemma assured him, jumping up and taking his hand again, pulling him along with her. Timidly, Leo followed along, much to the amusement of his mother, and Jemma taught him to play jacks, jump the rope, and tag; tag was a very exciting game that she didn't get to play often, for lack of other children to play with, and she told Nanny that night before bed that she hoped Leo would play with her again, because she had the best day of her _entire_ life with him.

As it turned out, Leo would be spending much more time with his mother and the young princess, for what his father had contracted turned out to be a more serious condition than they had feared, and he died a few days after falling ill. Leo wasn't certain how he felt about the entire situation, and it all made his little head and heart hurt. While he was glad he didn't have to stay in the kitchens all day anymore, and even gladder that he got to play with Jemma, he was terribly sad that his father was gone, even if he hadn't always been nice to him. One day in particular, while Leo's mother was busy talking to one of the palace guards, he snuck away to be on his own for a little while, and he hadn't noticed Jemma follow him.

The princess had been terribly upset to find her new friend crying in the shadow of a suit of armor, hesitantly approaching him. It was a rainy day, so they had to stay inside the palace, and the corridors were darker than usual. Leo had likely hoped it was just dark enough for him to go unnoticed, but he hadn't accounted for Jemma following him when he snuck out of her nursery, where his mother was planning to read a story about a mermaid; Jemma's favourite; to them. She'd been ravenously excited to share her favourite tale with her new friend, and hadn't understood why he would sneak away before he heard it.

Now she was beginning to understand. A few days ago, Nanny had explained to her that Leo would be spending days with them because his daddy was gone. She hadn't said where he went, but it had to be the reason Leo seemed so sad.

He hadn't noticed her approaching him at first, for his face was hidden by his knees while he cried into his trousers. All she could see were his sandy brown curls, and the way his shoulders were shaking. It made Jemma sad to see him so sad, so she sat down on the floor beside him, and he jumped when he noticed her.

"What're you doin' here?" he asked, half whimpering, scooting away. He didn't want the princess of all people to see him crying. Boys weren't supposed to cry. "Yer supposed to be with m' mum!"

Scooting closer to him again when he moved away, Jemma shook her head, wrapping her small arms around him in a hug.

"Don't be sad, Leo. Your daddy will come back."

He frowned at that, feeling fresh tears coming on, and he wiggled away from her embrace. He couldn't push her away like he wanted to; she was a girl, and a _princess_. He could get in trouble for pushing her.

"No, he won't!" he shouted at her, hiding his face in his knees again, wishing she would just leave him alone like he wanted to be. "My dad's dead! He can't come back!"

Jemma's little eyes widened when he shouted, and she felt her lip wobbling. She only wanted to help. Now he seemed even sadder.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, shaking her head, her curls moving with the motion despite the fact that they were tied back with a blue ribbon. "Nanny just said that he was gone. I only wanted to make you stop feeling sad…!"

When he heard her start to cry as well, Leo looked up from his knees, getting an odd feeling in his stomach. It was a feeling similar to the one he got the time he was the reason that Matilda, the baker, had dropped the cake she made for the queen's birthday. He didn't know what the feeling was called, but he didn't like it.

"Don' cry…" he said with a sniffle, shaking his head at her as she cried into her little hands. Along with the other feeling was a feeling he knew well; fear. He could get in big trouble for making the princess upset. "Please don' cry, I'm sorry, _please_…"

A while later, Leo's mother found both children huddled together by the suit of armor. It seemed that Jemma had been crying, but Leo was the one who currently was. Jemma's little arms were wrapped around him, and she was saying things like, "It will be alright," and, "Please don't be sad, Leo. You still have your mummy, and she's very, very nice…"

It was that statement that made her understand what was wrong. It was about his father. She was tempted to go and comfort her son, but it seemed that the little princess was doing a fairly good job of that. Leo's curly haired head was resting on Jemma's shoulder as he sniffled, and he was holding onto her as tightly as he had to his mother herself when she told him that his father wasn't going to get better. She would have liked to have let them be, but she had to do her job. She couldn't just leave Jemma unattended.

"What's the matter, wee ones? Hmm?" she asked, crouching down before them, and Jemma looked up from saying things to make Leo feel better.

"He's sad about his daddy," she said with a tiny frown, shaking her head. "I thought he just went away, so I said he would come back, but that only made him sadder."

Leo's mother frowned faintly, reaching for her young son, and he reluctantly let go of Jemma to cling to her, his arms wrapped around her neck as he cried. Given he was raised by the man she had known Leo would take his passing hard, but things would get better. Maybe being around Jemma, who was a sweet little girl, would help him along.

And it did. It took a few months, but Leo came around. Eventually he was enjoying playing with her, outside in the gardens on sunny days and inside the palace on rainy days. They played games and had tea parties, and in the evenings Leo's mother would read stories to them of mermaids, much to Jemma's delight, and knights in shining armour coming to the aid of damsels in distress.

If only Jemma had realized back then the foreshadowing those stories in particular contained about her future.

While things were lovely and fun for a few years, the deterioration of that happiness began around the time of Leo's eighth birthday, just a month and a half before Jemma's.

"He's too young to be sent back to the kitchens! They'll work him to death without his father there to watch over him!"

The palace majordomo, Hemsworth, wrinkled his nose at Leo's mother's protesting to the news he had just delivered. Upon the king and queen's request, Leo was to be sent back to work at his initial position in the kitchens. He'd had more than enough time to grieve over the loss of his father, and was not a little boy anymore. While eight wasn't old, it wasn't young, either, and they were afraid his presence may have a bad influence on the princess. She needed to learn how to behave like a lady, not like a little boy, which was also why they were bringing in a governess for her in just over a month. She would take over the majority of Leo's mother's duties, leaving her only with getting Jemma out of bed in the morning, giving her daily baths, and preparing her for bed at night. The governess would teach her proper manners, and, by strict orders of the king, still her chatty tongue by a mile. Of course, Leo's mother was horrified not only for her son, but for Jemma as well. She had raised the girl for the past seven years, nearly eight, and now she was being demoted of her duties as her nursemaid. In reality, she was now no more than an _ordinary _maid to the princess; the princess who despite the insistence of her parents was still a little girl. Most weren't given governesses until they were _at least_ ten years old.

"He's hardly a child anymore. It's far past the time he should have been put to work."

It was terribly hard for her not to smack him in the face.

"He _is_ still a child! As is the princess! How can they be so cruel?"

Frowning deeply, Hemsworth took a step closer to Leo's mother.

"It is not your place to question neither the actions nor the orders of the king and queen. You'll do well to remember that you are not the princess's mother, and thus you have no say in her fate. That is for them to decide, as is the fate of you and your miserable boy. You had best mind your tongue, save he suffer for your insolence."

Watching helplessly as Hemsworth turned to go and tend to more orders, Leo's mother swallowed harshly at his next statement.

"Go inform the boy that he is to start work in the kitchens first thing tomorrow morning. If he is over a minute late, he will be dragged there and whipped for poor conduct. Good day to you."

Having no choice but to do as the majordomo told her, she made her way out to the gardens to find Leo and Jemma.

Truthfully, they weren't hard to find. Judging by Jemma's wild giggling, the two of them were likely playing tag again, and she spotted them over by the apple trees, ducking between and around them.

While they were still children, they weren't _small_ children anymore. Leo had grown nearly a head taller than Jemma in the past three years, and the princess herself had grown impossibly prettier. She was growing with beauty and grace, just as a princess was supposed to, and she was still as sweet a girl as ever. Why she needed a governess was beyond her, but she was in no place to judge the royal rule.

"_You'll never catch me!_"

"_Oh, yes I will! I've gotten good at this game!_"

"_Not as good as me!_"

Smiling faintly as she watched them play, Leo's mother drew in a breath before calling out to them. Best to deliver the news to them now, early in the afternoon, and give them a few hours together knowing what was to come tomorrow.

"Leopold! Princess! Could you come over here, please?"

Stopping in their game just seconds before Leo was about to tag Jemma, the children raced over to where his mother was standing, both bright eyed and cheerful, as they usually were. If only they could stay that way…

"I'm afraid I have a bit of bad news," she told them, and simultaneously the bright smiles on their faces puckered into tiny frowns, the unison of the action almost laughable. Truly, they spent so much time together that they were practically one person, not two. It felt wrong to separate them like this.

"What's wrong?" they asked at the same time, and his mother sighed, gesturing for them both to sit on a bench a few feet away. They did, looking to her expectantly.

"These past few years have been fun, haven't they?" she began, and both children smiled again, nodding.

"Leo is my best friend in the world!" Jemma declared happily, tossing her arms around him in a way that made his ears turn red, and he smiled bashfully.

"And Jemma's mine," he agreed. The confirmation of just how close the children had gotten only made her next phrase harder to say.

"Well… I'm afraid that all good things must one day come to an end."

Just like that, their smiles were gone again. Jemma looked confused, and Leo looked worried.

"What do you mean, Nanny? Leo and I will always be friends. Forever and ever," Jemma stated, and his mother smiled weakly, nodding.

"I'm sure you're right, princess. But… you won't be allowed to see each other anymore. Not like you have been."

Their expressions of confusion and worry turned quickly to ones of horror.

"What do you mean? Why not?" Jemma asked in a rush. Leo had yet to say anything. He knew his mother's expression well; it was the face she wore when she was about to deliver some sort of emotional blow. Not out of cruelty, but out of necessity. It was a face neither he nor she liked very much. It was the same face she had worn the day she told him that his father was dying.

"Why can't I see Jemma anymore, Mum?" he asked, and she reached out to rest a hand over her son's, willing herself to be strong. She had to be honest with them. Anything else would be unfair.

"You're going to be rather busy, dear. Master Hemsworth has just told me that you're being given another job in the kitchens, starting tomorrow morning."

Leo's expression sank at that, and she watched as his shoulders started to sag. He knew what working in the kitchens meant; it meant virtually living there. Working day and night, making bread and goodies for the royals, and hardly ever seeing the light of day save looking out the window. He'd gotten so used to having the freedom to play and be a child that he'd forgotten he would one day have to start working again to earn his keep. He hadn't expected that day to come so quickly.

"I can't go and see him?" Jemma asked, clearly confused, and Leo gave a little shake of his head at the same time as his mother did.

"The royals don't come in'ta the kitchens," he explained, looking over at his smaller friend, "It's dirty and you'd ruin yer pretty dresses. It's how come we never met before we were five."

Jemma looked between Leo and his mother, clearly upset. She had never thought of it that way. She'd just known that one day, Leo was there, and they had been friends ever since. She hadn't considered where he was for the years they didn't know each other.

"But I don't care about getting my dresses dirty," she stated, nodding at Leo before turning to his mother. "I get them dirty all the time playing outside. I just get new ones."

Taking a breath, Leo's mother made herself press on. She didn't just have to give Leo troubling news; she had some for Jemma as well.

"Getting dirty isn't very ladylike," she explained, and Jemma pouted, her eyes widening as she continued, "Your mummy and daddy want you to be a very proper little princess, so they're bringing you in a teacher in a few weeks. A governess. She'll take care of you like I have, so we won't see each other as much, either."

Jemma looked to be on the verge of wailing. Everything she'd known for the past seven years and ten months was crumbling around her.

"But I don't want a governess!" she cried, shaking her head desperately. "I don't want to be a proper little princess, I want to be with you and play with Leo! Mummy and Daddy wouldn't take my friend away, or my Nanny, I know they wouldn't! They love me!"

"They do, princess. They love you very much. They only want what's best for you, which is why they're doing-"

"No!" Jemma whimpered, shaking her head rapidly. "No, this is mean! It's _mean_ to take away the people who make me happy! I don't _want_ a governess!"

With that, she rose to her feet and ran off, and Leo started to get to his feet to chase after her, calling her name.

"Jemma!"

"Let her go, sweetheart," his mother tried to tell him, holding him back from going to find the princess. As much as it scared him, her words had a double meaning; they were literal in more than one sense.

"You have to let her go."

"But… But she's my best friend," he stated, his voice quiet and upset, turning away from where Jemma had disappeared to look at his mother. "She's my best friend, Mum!"

"She's a _princess_, Leo," his mother emphasized, shaking her head, "Jemma is a princess, and a lady, and that means she has to follow rules. One of those rules is that she isn't allowed to be friends with her servants."

That hit him with a pang. He'd never thought of himself as Jemma's _servant_, because she'd never treated him like one. They were friends, best friends, and equals in every way- or so he had thought. Now he was learning that he wasn't allowed to be near her, and that was the worst possible news anyone could give him. Jemma made him happy, and now he had to go back to working in the kitchens; a place directly connected to his father. His father who wouldn't be there. His _dead_ father.

"Mum, you've gotta do something," he tried frantically to persuade her, "Please, Mum, please!"

"Leopold, there is nothing that I can do; you know that as well as I do. I… I have no say in what happens to us. We're just servants. You're old enough now that if you disobey you'll get a lashing… and you'll do well to do as you're told."

He'd heard of lashings, and he certainly didn't want to be on the receiving end of one. So, helplessly, Leo agreed to do as his mother told him to. The worst part of it all, in truth, was that he didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Jemma, because he wasn't able to find her after she ran off. He wasn't able to say goodbye to her then, nor on her twelfth birthday.

Her twelfth birthday was when they sent her away to live in the tower.

… . … . … . … . …

"No! No, Mother, please! Father! You can't do this! You can't send me away! _Please!_"

Jemma screamed and protested as her guards carted her through the corridors and out the palace's front door and she trembled and dug the heels of her shoes into the ground when she saw the carriage awaiting her on the path.

She'd woken up that morning happy and excited, as she always did on her birthday. She hadn't understood why Nanny had seemed so grim, or why she only gave her vague answers when she asked what the problem was.

"_Today is the day, princess._"

"_Yes, it's my birthday!_"

"_A very important birthday._"

"_Aren't all of my birthdays important?_"

"_Not as this one._"

She had refused to explain why as she helped Jemma bathe and dress, as she did each morning, and it was only at breakfast with her mother and father that she learned why today was so "important".

"Jemma, dearest, we have something to tell you," her mother had started, setting her napkin down on her lap, and the twelve year old had looked up with confusion. Typically by this time they were singing songs and bestowing her with gifts from the bordering countries. Today had been off from the start, and it was only growing stranger.

"What is it, Mother?"

"You understand that I cannot give you a younger brother, don't you?"

"Yes," Jemma confirmed, setting her fork down by her plate. "You were very ill when I was born, and it made you unable to have more children. You told me when I was eight."

"Well, dearest-"

Her mother started to continue the explanation, but fell silence when Jemma's father held up a hand. Evidently this was something he wanted to explain to her.

"This means that the fate of our kingdom rests in your hands, daughter," he stated, and Jemma's lips pulled down a bit. He only called her "daughter" when he was being strict. Why was he being strict? She had done no wrong.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Father," she said timidly, and he continued to give her an explanation.

"You need to find us the most worthy heir possible. Thus, I had a new law established when we assigned you your governess."

"How am I to find a worthy heir, Father? I'm not allowed to leave the palace grounds."

He held up his hand again for her to be silent, and she obeyed, folding her hands in her lap, not out of politeness but out of nervous habit. This conversation, along with Nanny's grimness this morning, had her very anxious.

"The law declares that a man is only worthy enough of my throne if he can salvage my most precious treasure."

Jemma was baffled as to what that had to do with her.

"Your crown, Father…?"

He chuckled at that, rising to his feet and walking down the table to his daughter, taking her cheeks in his hands gently.

"No silly girl; _you. _A man, in order to be worthy of my throne, must rescue my only child to take the place in line of the son I could not have."

"But I am not in need of rescuing. I don't understand," she repeated, and her father motioned with his hand. The guards, who were always posted along the wall, took a few steps closer to stand on Jemma's other side. She recognized them as her own guards; the guards who had protected her from the time she was born, always trailing along behind her and Nanny. While they had always made her feel safe, they now made her more anxious than she already had been.

"Sweet Jemma; my precious jewel; the law also declares that, on your twelfth birthday, you are to be sent to our tower south of the kingdom. You will remain there for eight years, and then a knight will come and rescue you. A year after your savior brings you home to us, you will be of age, and you shall marry the man who finds you- and a lucky man he shall be…"

Jemma's eyes were now wide with horror and panic. Sent away? To live in the tower? _For eight years?_

"Father, _no_," Jemma found herself pleading, shaking her head, her hands shaking as she gripped the arms of her chair. "I can find a worthy heir another way, I'm sure I can! Please don't send me away! Don't make me live in the tower! I don't want to leave!"

The king's lips pursed, and for a moment Jemma thought he was contemplating another option, but a moment later he gestured to the guards again, and she found herself lifted up beneath her arms from her chair and being guided from the dining room, her eyes widening further with shock.

"Release me!" she cried, squirming in their tight hold, fear curling in her stomach.

"It will be alright, sweetheart," she heard her mother call as she was pulled from the room. "This is a true honor."

"No!" she sobbed, shaking her head, kicking and screaming as she was pulled along. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be; especially not on her _birthday_. Surely Nanny wouldn't have let them do this. She wouldn't have dressed and bathed her and sent her off to breakfast to be carted away.

Her panicked sobs and shouts could be heard from the kitchens, and Leo, now a lanky boy of twelve and a little over a month, found himself standing at the window, watching with horror as Jemma was stuffed into a carriage that was loaded with all of her belongings. From the time he was eight he had been working in the kitchens, only catching glimpses of his best friend on rare occasions when she would be out front of the palace, possibly reading or taking etiquette lessons with her governess, Miss Hand. Miss Hand was a harsh woman, and Leo deeply disliked her. He hated hearing her call Jemma foolish and incompetent. Jemma was smart and lovely and kind. She didn't need a governess's approval.

Four years, he had watched Jemma grow and be molded into a proper princess from the kitchens' window. Four years without speaking to her or smiling at her, and not at something she said that he heard from afar. He hadn't heard her say his name in four years, and the brief glances he got into her life as a princess were the only things keeping him from falling ill under the crushing loneliness. He was often so busy these days that he didn't even get to see his mother, similar to how the first five years of his life had been. Sometimes it felt like he was an orphan, even if he really wasn't. So, when his mother appeared in the kitchens later that day, after he watched Jemma's carriage pull away with her crying and pleading inside, he was shocked.

"Mum!" he gasped with surprise, nearly dropping the bread dough he was kneading when she appeared, letting her pull him to a dark corner where nobody but the mice lingered.

"You need to listen to me, Leopold. This is very important."

And so he did. She explained what had happened to Jemma; that she was being taken to the south kingdom tower, and that she was to be kept there for eight years. _Eight years._ The thought of her being all alone there for such a long time made his heart ache and her next words had thoroughly stunned him.

His mother had promised one of the coachmen all of her wages for five months if he would do her a favor. That favor happened to be taking her twelve year old son away from this place, and delivering him to a castle in a kingdom a few days away, where he could be trained as a squire and, in a few years' time, become a night. A knight who could travel to the kingdom's south tower and rescue Jemma- the girl that his mother knew perfectly well Leo cared for.

He hadn't known what to say. Yes, he cared for Jemma; she'd been his best friend for three years, and he had missed her deeply when they were separated. But could he really give up his life here, his mother, to become someone entirely new? Did he really want to train mercilessly to become a knight, something he was sure he'd be terrible at, to embark on a quest to "save" Jemma? Did he want to _marry_ her?

These were all terribly difficult questions for a twelve year old boy to mull over when he only had a minute or two to decide. But ultimately it came down to the one thing he couldn't deny.

He did care about Jemma. He'd felt sick to hear her screaming and crying and to watch her be sent away like that by her own parents. He wanted to help her.

If becoming a knight and leaving his home behind was what he had to do to help her, then he would do it.

"But what about you?" he asked, shaking his head as he looked at his mother. "What will you do now that Jemma is gone?"

"Don't you worry about that," his mother scolded him, shaking her head. "You just worry about meeting the coachman out front at eleven o'clock tonight; _and don't you be late._ Do you understand me, Leopold?"

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nodded. He wasn't being left with much of a choice.

"Yes, Mum."

Once he consented, she was hugging him, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes. His mother was giving up nearly half a year's salary so he could do this, and that hardly felt right to him. But she wasn't going to take no for an answer. So, he met the coachman at exactly the time she told him to, and settled in for the long journey ahead.

… . … . … . … . …

"I only need the horse for a bloody week! When have I ever asked for anything before?"

Sir Cappleman, head knight of King Phillip's table, frowned at the boy before him. How he managed to become a knight was beyond him. It had to be because the queen had taken a liking to him back when he was young, for there was nothing remarkable about Leopold Fitz. He was slight and hotheaded, and had proven more than once that he ought to be a blacksmith and not a knight. Yet, here he was, asking to borrow a horse for an _entire_ week.

"Just what sort of a quest is it you intend to go on, boy?" he asked the twenty year-old before him, shaking his head, "And with no other men to accompany you? Who's to say you don't plan to steal the horse and not return?"

Sir Cappleman was your traditional sort of knight, with a thick head of auburn hair and a beard to match. He currently had his helmet tucked beneath his arm, and was leaning against his own horse, Arthur.

Leo huffed at his statement, shaking his head.

"I have no intention to steal the bloody horse! You've known me for eight years, and you know me to be trustworthy-"

"-and cowardly," Sir Cappleman finished with a frown. "We confronted bandits two years ago and you screamed like a damsel in distress. The only reason we took them all out was because they _laughed_ at you."

Feeling his blood boiling, Leo frowned more deeply.

"That's a damned lie! You told the king this because you were angry that I was the one who took out the bandits on my own with my perfected lightweight blade! You were jealous, and you made me look like a fool for it, and the other men sided with you to save themselves the shame!"

Scowling, Sir Cappleman took a menacing step toward Leo, towering over him.

"Mind your tongue, _boy_, and save yourself from having it cut out."

With that, he put his helmet on and got back on his horse, riding away and leaving Leo in the dust. Clenching his fists and trying to calm his temper, Leo jumped when he heard a female voice from behind him.

"Is that true? Did you really take out a fleet of bandits all by yourself?"

Turning quickly, he dropped down to his knee, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Your majesty."

With a scoff, Skye, King Phillip's adopted daughter, tugged Leo to his feet. The story of Princess Skye was popular among the children of the kingdom, even if all of it wasn't entirely true. So it goes, she was left at the palace doorstep as a baby, abandoned by her parents because she possessed some sort of magical powers that were deemed unholy. King Phillip and his wife, the queen, Lady Melinda, weren't so bigoted. Despite the baby's unnatural gifts, they took her in and raised her as their own.

The truth of the matter was that Skye was able to control the weather. How she came to possess the gift was a mystery that, to this day, went unsolved. It was the explanation for why the kingdom never received terrible storms after the king and queen's daughter learned to control her powers. They called her their gift.

Leo wasn't long befriending the princess after he arrived in her home. Evidently befriending princesses was something he was rather good at. But, because of his status as a squire, he was actually allowed to speak with this one.

"You've known me for eight years, _Leopold._ You know you don't have to all me _your majesty_ anymore."

Her tone was teasing, and he found himself smiling faintly, awkwardly clearing his throat.

"Right. Sorry. Force of habit…"

"So, what do you need a horse for?" she asked with a curious grin, and he felt a blush creeping into his cheeks. Her grin wasn't just curious; it was _knowing_. Years ago, once he was sure of their friendship, Leo had told Skye the story of him and Jemma, and how he planned to rescue her on her twentieth birthday. Skye thought the whole tale to be absolutely adorable, and had told him she'd help him however she could. He'd thought she was only joking about that last part.

Evidently he had been wrong.

"You're going to find your princess, aren't you?" she asked, and he swallowed the lump in his throat, timidly nodding. The fate of his dream might rest in this girl's hands, and he desperately wanted her to help him.

"I need to help her… I can't let her get rescued by some bloke who only cares about the crown attached to her story. She deserves a better fate than that…"

Smiling, Skye grabbed his arm and pulled him along, talking while they walked.

"I still think you're adorable, you know. It's all so _cute_, like in the stories. She's your damsel in distress, and you're her knight in shining armor."

Blushing further than he had been before, Leo shook his head, following her in the direction of the stables.

"I'm not exactly a shiny knight," he disagreed, frowning faintly, "I only got knighted because your mum likes me."

"No, you got knighted because my mother thought you were worthy," Skye disagreed, resting her hands on his shoulders once they reached the stable doors. "If there's one thing my mother knows best it's worthiness and honour. She wouldn't have knighted you if she didn't think you had earned it. So take my horse, and go save your girl."

Blinking at her statement, shocked and humbled by her words, Leo watched as she brought out her horse, Aphrodite.

"I… thank you. I don't know _how_ to thank you…"

"_Thank me by getting your happily ever after,_" she stressed, grinning, "Maybe we'll see each other at a fancy ball sometime."

Unable to do much else, Leo returned her smile and pulled her in for a hug, throwing caution to the window. A hug was the only thing that could properly display how grateful he was, even if hugging a princess wasn't proper.

"Really, Skye; thank you."

She nodded as he hopped up onto her horse, handing him his helmet.

"Anytime, Leopold," she stated, smirking as she used his full name, and she gave him a wave as he rode off. Really, it wasn't just her that he needed to thank; it was her parents as well. There weren't many people who hadn't heard of what the royal Simmons did to their daughter, and the Coulsons were one of the few royal families who didn't approve of it. Imprisoning your daughter for the sake of finding an heir, when she could easily be that heir herself? It astounded King Phillip, and when he heard of Leo's intention to rescue the girl from his own daughter, he and Lady Melinda had, without Leo's knowledge, helped him in every way possible. For the final step of helping him reach his honourable goal, the least they could do was let him borrow a horse- and Skye would see to it that Sir Cappleman never heard the end of how he lied and denied a good knight a horse.

… . … . … . … . …

Lying in her four-poster bed with its heavy lavender drapes and blankets, Jemma sighed as the clock in the corner chimed midnight. Eight years she'd been living in this tower, all alone, waiting for this day to come. Now that it was here, she wasn't sure she wanted it to be. She'd grown so used to being alone, trapped in solitude with no way of escaping, that she wasn't sure she'd be able to adapt to living with people again, let alone forgive her parents for sending her here. She'd come to loath them for punishing her just because they couldn't produce a son. That wasn't _her_ fault.

"Happy birthday to me…" she sang quietly as the twelve chimes faded into silence again, rolling over onto her side. Who would come to rescue her today? What would he be like? She'd heard enough stories when she was a child and Nanny would read to her to know of knights rescuing damsels. Would he be like the men in the books? Charming and handsome? Brave and chivalrous? Oh, she hoped not. Those stories had always bored her to tears. She much preferred the fantastical ones of mermaids and sorceresses. They were always different, while the stories of 'knights in shining armor' always possessed the same plot. A girl is in trouble. Her knight comes to save her. They live happily ever after. The end. If she got bored of hearing them, how is it no one ever got bored of writing them? She'd certainly grown weary of _living_ that story. If it were possible, she'd have rescued herself by now, but there was no way out of this tower. No way out but jumping and the fall would kill her- not that she hadn't considered attempting that more than once. Surely death had to be a better fate than the waiting, the waiting, the waiting, the waiting…

She'd been about to fall back to sleep when a noise outside her window grabbed her attention. Were those hooves? Oh, surely not. Certainly no man was keen enough to show up precisely at the moment she turned twenty. There may be a crown in the gamble, but that was just a bit too ambitious. It was almost silly.

But then her name was being called, and there was no denying that there was someone outside down below. Someone was calling her _name_; not shouting drivel like "oh, fair princess!" or "let down your hair!" The last one was positively ridiculous, as was Rapunzel for letting her hair grow so long. She'd at least taken the time to cut her hair and keep it reasonably healthy- and, even if she had let it grow out to a horrid length, she wouldn't let someone _climb up it_. That would snap her neck.

"_Jemma! Jemma, are you up there? Jemma!_"

Getting to her feet, she walked over to the window and opened the shutters, letting the pale moonlight stream into the room. She was dressed in her silky blue nightgown that reached the floor, with its sheer sleeves, and this certainly wasn't what she had thought she would be wearing when someone came to her rescue. Her hair wasn't even up! It was currently falling down her back in straight wisps, for she'd just washed it and brushed it for hours last night in preparation she was certain Nanny would have insisted upon. But, that wasn't entirely the reason it lacked her childhood curls. The years of fretting and unhappiness had thinned her hair out significantly, and the poor meals in comparison to what she had been used to for her first twelve years of life had made her reasonably skinnier. Overall, Jemma was now smaller and far more petite- likely what some stupid bloke would find the vision of perfection. The thought made her sick.

Squinting in the darkness at the figure down below, she watched as he jumped off the back of his horse. He wasn't as large as she had expected; he was almost slight, and lacked the long hair and the beard she had presumed the knight who came to rescue her would have.

"You're rather early, aren't you?" she shouted down at him, and he approached the tower, peering up at her from nearly sixty feet below.

"If you ask me, I'm about eight years late," he stated, and she furrowed her brow. What an odd thing to say.

"How do you plan to get up here? Surely you aren't strong enough to climb."

Really, had her parents at all thought this plan through? No man, no matter how strong, could scale a sixty foot wall without falling. She shuddered to think of how many men she may watch plunge to their deaths today.

The young knight below was quiet for a long while, before calling up to her a question she certainly hadn't expected to hear.

"Don't ye recognize me? I know it's been a long time, and I've grown up quite a lot, but I'd hope you would recognize your 'best friend in the world'."

Furrowing her brow, it was his quotation that sparked her memory. But that was impossible!

"_Leo?_" she called down, her eyes wide, and she heard him laugh.

"I'm surprised the voice didn't tip ya off!"

The faintest of smiles pulling at her lips, she shook her head, calling down in return, "It has changed quite a bit, in my defense! I remember it being much higher! Almost girl like!"

"Oi!" he shouted, a laugh passing through his lips in its wake, "Is that any way to talk to your rescuer?"

Her eyes glittering in a way they hadn't since she was a child, Jemma shook her head. Oh, she wanted Leo to be the one to get her out of this place. As impossible as it all seemed, she deeply wanted it. But there was no way he could get up to her. He simply couldn't.

"Leo," she managed to get out, her voice wavering a little, "How do you intend to rescue me if you can't even make it up to me?"

Gazing up at her, he worried his lip. Truthfully, he hadn't expected the tower to be quite so _high_. She was right; it would be practically impossible to make it up. But, then again, it had been practically impossible for him to actually find her, but he had. He wasn't about to give up when he was so close to doing what his mother had set him out to do.

"Surely you've got a lot of dresses and such up there with you?" he called, and she furrowed her brow, glancing over her shoulder and the wardrobe and various trunks. The maids had certainly packed for eight years' worth of being away.

"Quite," she shouted back to him as she looked around, trying to follow his train of thought. "But how will my dresses help you?"

"Remember when we were kids?" he shouted, moving a bit closer to the tower, "And you taught me to play jump the rope?"

Her eyes widening, Jemma sprang into action. A rope! Oh, he was a genius!

"Don't go anywhere!" she shouted, starting with the dresses that were too small for her, knotting them all together as carefully as she had the daisy crowns she used to make in the garden as a little girl.

Smiling with pride up at the window, Leo felt almost giddy he was so happy. Years and years of work and planning were finally going to pay off. He was getting back the best friend he lost too early.

Jemma worked tirelessly for hours, stringing together nearly every dress she had in an attempt to make the rope long enough, and she desperately hoped it would hold. The sun was beginning to come up by the time she finished, and she approached the window, smiling with relief to find that Leo was still there. He'd called up every once and a while to see how she was fairing, and she had been fairly certain he'd truly done so to assure her that he wasn't going to leave. But, just the same, it lifted an anxious weight off of her shoulders to find him still there, his sandy brown curls highlighted by the rising sun.

"You'll be careful?" she asked, hesitating in dropped her rope. If Leo fell because she hadn't been attentive enough, and she had to watch him possibly die, it would ruin her. "If it doesn't feel strong enough, you'll stop?"

"I'll be careful," he assured her, nodding. "Just tie it around something sturdy, yeah? That's the important part."

Nodding, she did as she was told, standing on a chair to tie the rope around one of the stone beams high above. She could just barely reach it, and she made sure the knot was tight before dropping herself back down to the ground and hurrying over to the window. She needed to get the rope down so that Leo could come up, because it wouldn't be long now before others started coming; others who would undoubtedly kill Leo for a chance to get her crown. That thought terrified her, and she didn't waste another moment before throwing the long stream of knotted dresses out the window, watching it tumble downward. It nearly reached the bottom, and was just long enough for Leo to reach if he jumped. Jemma swallowed roughly as she watched him start to climb, whispering prayers under her breath to every deity she knew of. She couldn't watch him fall. She couldn't let that happen. He had to make it up safely.

"Please, please, be careful…" she called repeatedly the higher he came, and she all but burst into tears with relief when he hopped through her window, tossing her arms around him. He was really here. It was really Leo. After all these years, in which he could have forgotten all about her, he chose to come.

At this point, she really did burst into tears, clinging to him despite how uncomfortable the chainmail and metal of his armor made the embrace. Leo, her Leo, was a knight? She'd been certain, when their friendship was forced to end, that he'd be trapped in those blasted kitchens until the day he died, just as his father had been. But he was here. He was here, and he somehow managed to become a _knight_…

"Oh, don't cry. Please don't cry…" he whispered, an echo of his words the day she discovered his father had died, but his tone was different. It wasn't anxious or fearful, but genuine and almost tender as he held her. This was a most unexpected turn of events, and she found herself holding him more tightly for dear life. She'd expected some pompous man to come for her and force her into marriage with him, but the man who truly got here first was Leo, her silly, wonderful childhood friend who she still thought of from time to time, despite her better knowledge. She'd been so sure he'd forgotten all about her, but he hadn't.

"I can't believe it's really you…" she choked out, shaking her head. "Twelve years, Leo, since we last spoke, and _you_ came for me…"

"Of course I came for you," he stated, disbelief colouring his tone and he shifted enough to tilt her chin up. "How could I not? You were my best friend, and I had to watch as they took you away, on your bloody _birthday_… I wanted to help you, so badly…"

Tears still trickling down her cheeks, Jemma slipped her arms more gently around his neck, forcing a tiny smile through the quiet crying.

"And here you are…"

"Here I am," he confirmed with a tiny smile of his own, resting a hand on her cheek, and she shivered at the feeling. No one had hugged her, or even touched her, in eight years. She'd been all alone, isolated in this tower. If anyone had to rescue her, she was beyond happy that it was someone who _cared_ about her, and not the crown her father had promised.

"Do you even care about the crown?" she asked, sniffling, watching as his brow furrowed. Over the years, he'd forgotten all about what saving Jemma entailed. Saving Jemma meant marrying her, and one day ruling her family's kingdom. It meant living in the palace where he somewhat grew up, and being in command of the fleet of servants he had once been a part of.

"I sort of forgot about that part," he confessed, and now her brow furrowed.

"Forgot…?"

"About the crown," he stated, not loosening his hold on her, "All I ever really thought about was finding you and getting you out of this blasted place. I guess the whole deal of it slipped my mind at some point…"

Looking up at him with disbelief, Jemma blinked. He came to save her just for the sake of saving her? Genuinely? He didn't care about her inheritance that could become his once he brought her home? He thought of none of that?

"You truly only thought of me…?" she asked, and he nodded, finding her hand with his.

"You were the only friend I ever had," he admitted, giving a tiny shrug of his shoulders. "I didn't care that you were a princess then; it only ever caused us trouble. Why would I start caring now? You're not just some sort of prize to me, Jem… Yer just a girl. A girl who needed my help. A girl who wanted t' be my friend, and who didn't like to see me sad when m' dad died, and who-"

His explanation was cut off when her lips pressed to his, and he stumbled a little with surprise. Was she kissing him? That hadn't been in the plan. What was he supposed to do now? He hadn't planned on considering the whole marriage thing until after he got her out of here and- …oh.

Oh.

_Oh._

Slowly, his wide, shocked eyes slid shut. This actually felt nice. Really nice. So nice that he might not mind all that much if he was obligated to kiss Jemma forever. Tilting his head to the side, he responded to the gentle pressing of her lips with some of his own, his other arm tightening around her waist while his hand remained on her cheek. Her lips were soft, and the pressure of them sent a shiver down his spine. No, he certainly wouldn't mind kissing Jemma forever.

But, of course, as usual with his luck, things weren't going to go _entirely_ smoothly.

"_Fear not, fair princess, for I have come to save you! Draping the rope of dresses out the window was quite the clever feat; it saved me a lot of painstaking effort…_"

Pulling back from Jemma's wonderfully pink lips, Leo turned to face the window. He would recognize that bloody voice anywhere.

_Cappleman. _

Scowling as the knight heaved himself through the window, Leo shifted Jemma behind him. He must have known all along what Leo's intentions were in borrowing a horse. He knew because he had the same intentions when he left the kingdom yesterday. How Leo managed to beat him here he didn't have to spend too much time guessing at; he'd been on enough quests with the man as a squire to know that he had a favoured form of repayment from the damsels he happened to rescue along the way. There was no way he was letting that swine near Jemma.

"You're too late, ye bloody git. Now get the hell out of here."

Cappleman, who had been about to swagger "charmingly" toward the princess, was frozen with shock at the sight of the younger knight before him. But the shock quickly melted into an expression of anger and, moreover, exasperation.

"Leopold," he spat, rolling his eyes. "I needn't even draw my sword to challenge you, coward. Step away from the princess and I'll allow you to leave here unscathed. Run along, back to the court where the queen counts you as her little pet, and allow me to take my prize."

"She's not a prize!" Leo snapped in return, keeping Jemma protectively shielded behind him. "She's a girl, Cappleman; a girl _far_ too young for you."

"That's _Sir_ Cappleman to you, fool," Cappleman ground out, stepping menacingly toward the two of them. "Now step. aside."

"Not a chance," Leo sneered in return, watching the older man with narrowed eyes, "And maybe you ought to start calling _me_ 'sir'. I did save your bloody arse, after all. You're just too much of a coward to admit it."

"You dare insult me in front of my wife?" Cappleman hissed, and Leo snorted, genuinely amused at that comment.

"Your _wife_? _Your_ wife? In case you missed the memo, yer too late! An' that's beside the fact that she can choose who she marries, and she'd never choose a pig like you!"

"_She_ can choose who she marries? You _are_ a fool, boy! She's a _woman_! She bows to my will! And she _will_ marry me, as soon as I slice you open from navel to nose!"

Leo had been about to draw his sword in both self defense and defense of Jemma, when there was a loud clang and Cappleman keeled over.

Freezing, eyes wide with shock and confusion, Leo's hand stopped on the hilt of his sword, his eyes slowly lifting up from the man on the floor.

Huffing, Jemma tossed the frying pan in her hand onto the floor, placing her hands on her hips.

"'Bow to his will' my ass," she spat, kicking at him with her slipper clad foot, and a grin slowly pulled at Leo's lips.

"When did you get so feisty?" he asked, a playful lilt in his tone, and Jemma grinned in return.

"I've been locked in a tower for eight years. I've got a lot of harbored anger and resentment to let loose."

His grin widening into a bright smile, the two of them moved in perfect synchronization, just as they had when they were children, and her arms went around his neck just as his went around her waist, their lips finding each other's in a kiss filled with the promise of many more to come.

When they broke apart, both of them were sporting giddy smiles, and Jemma bumped her nose against his. Opting to move fast, before Cappleman woke, the two of them climbed down their makeshift rope, an almost gleeful smirk pulling at Leo's lips when they set fire to it once on the ground. At least now the tower would be put to some good use; harboring that swine for years and years to come. Or, Jemma hoped, however long it took her parents to send a search party out for their daughter who had not returned well past her twentieth birthday.

"Leo…?" she found herself asking, mulling over the thought as her head rested against his back, the two of them riding leisurely through the forest bordering her tower.

"Mmm?" he asked upon hearing her say his name, and she hesitated before continuing.

"Did you mean what you said? About not caring that I'm a princess?"

Furrowing his brow, he nodded his head, keeping a careful hold on the horse's reins.

"O' course I did. Why would I say it if I didn't mean it?"

"I… I was just thinking…" she tried, shaking her head. She couldn't possibly ask this of him. After all he undoubtedly went through to get to her he deserved a kingdom and so much more.

"What were you thinking? Jem, tell me."

Taking a deep breath, she made herself finish.

"I was thinking… If my title doesn't matter, and my crown was all but forgotten to you until I mentioned it… do we really have to go back there?"

Blinking with surprise, Leo pulled on the reins to stop the horse, turning enough so that he could look at her.

"You don't want to go home?"

"No," she confessed, shaking her head, biting own on her lips for a long moment before finishing the declaration, "I don't."

When he said nothing, she hurried to continue, desperate to make him understand her reasoning.

"My parents trapped me in a tower for eight years for their own selfish gain, Leo, and… I don't know if I can face them after that. My mother said, instead of trying to convince my father it was a mad, foolish law, being sent away like this was an _honour_. I've been miserable and alone for nearly half of my life, and who's to say they don't manipulate or use me like that again? Those people may be my parents, but… I don't trust them. I don't love them. I don't want to be near them. Please, Leo, if you care about me like you say you do… don't take me back there. Take me _anywhere_ but there…"

He could feel her words pulling at his heartstrings. He meant what he said; he didn't care that she was a princess. He'd take her as far away as she wanted to go if it meant that Jemma, the girl, would be happy and feel safe. That's all he wanted.

"I think I know just the place to go," he assured her with a small smile, and he saw her eyes light up and then soften to a twinkle that he knew all too well, and yet was entirely new to him. There was something more than just happiness to have a best friend in that twinkle…

… . … . … . … . …

"MOTHER! FATHER! _MOTHER! FATHER!_"

While several guards struggled to keep up with her, Skye raced down the corridor toward the throne room, throwing the doors open without a proper announcement, her eyes wide as she raced into the room.

"What's the matter?" her father, King Phillip, asked, and her mother, Lady Melinda, simply arched a questioning eyebrow. Once his words were out, Skye's face lit up in a bright smile and she shook her head, all but bouncing in place with glee.

"Nothing. Nothing's the matter. But you're never going to guess who's here."

… . … . … . … . …

Slipping off of Skye's horse, Leo carefully helped Jemma down, smiling fondly at her as she looked around with awe.

"I've never stepped foot in another kingdom before…" she mumbled, turning her gaze up to him with a soft smile. "This is where you've been living?"

"Indeedy-deed," he confirmed with a smile still as giddy as when she kissed him, not moving his arms from where they were around her waist from helping her down. "Trained her as a squire, got knighted by the queen, befriended the princess-"

"You befriended another princess while I was locked up in a tower?" Jemma asked, huffing playfully. "I see how it is."

Snorting, Leo grinned, pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

"She's like a little sister, Jemma- and you ought to be thanking her. She gave me her horse so I could come and find you."

Jemma's eyes widened slightly with surprise, but she didn't get the chance to respond. At that moment, the palace doors opened and several guards walked out.

One in particular stood in front, and Jemma marveled with surprise at how they marched behind him. The guards weren't quite so precise back home. In fact, the highlight of her time with them was being manhandled while they stuffed her into a carriage.

"Presenting their royal majesties, King Phillip, the queen, Lady Melinda, and Princess-"

He was jostled before he could finish by a bolt of lightning in a pink dress that all but hurled herself at Leo in a hug, squealing with delight.

"_You did it you did it you really really did it!_"

"-Skye," the guard finished with the faintest trace of a smile, stepping aside to join one of the two lines of others, and Leo, who had been grinning at Skye's attack hug, quickly shifted to bow when the king and queen walked out behind her. Jemma, recalling her endless hours of training with her governess, dipped herself down in a curtsy.

"Oh, please. There's no need for that," Lady Melinda stated, as stoic as ever, but Leo could swear he saw the tiniest hint of a smile pulling at her lips. "Does royalty bow to royalty where you come from?"

"I…" Jemma tried, straightening out beside Leo, her cheeks turning pink. She was so… _dignified_. Graceful, even; she seemed to command a respect just with a glance that she was sure her mother had never had from their subjects.

"Please, excuse my wife," the king said with a more obvious grin. "She can at times be a bit… intimidating."

Skye was still vibrating with excitement beside Leo, and Jemma shot her a curious smile, seeing now what he had meant about her being like a little sister.

"You'll also have to excuse my daughter," he stated, grabbing Jemma's attention again, "She can be a bit overwhelming at times."

Skye's giddy expression turned to a frown at her father's words and she turned to face him. Just like that, a gust of wind blew him sideways a few feet, and he grinned. Jemma wasn't entirely sure what had just happened, but Skye's happy smile returned a second later and the king continued.

"She tells me you've both had a rather eventful few days. Why don't you come inside and we'll discuss the matters at hand?"

Jemma wasn't sure what to do when the king and queen, accompanied by their guards, headed back inside, and it took Leo's gentle prodding to get her to follow with him and Skye. Of course, her nervousness was understandable. Her only experience with royalty was that they were selfish and unkind. It was only natural for her to be wary.

So, when they were all sitting in the throne room and the king told her his views of what her parents had done, and how he would be more than happy to take her in, she wasn't sure what to say.

"I… I'm not sure I understand."

"It's simple, really. I'm not sure what there is to not understand. As king, I have the power to make big decisions. It's a big decision to welcome you, a, technically, kidnapped princess, into my family. But I'm doing it, because you have terrible parents and I wouldn't wish a life like yours upon anyone. Plus, Skye would put an eternal thunder cloud over my head if I turned you or Leopold away."

"It's true," Skye stated, nodding at Jemma, "He hates thunder. I'd totally do that to him. You're welcome."

Blinking, still shocked, Jemma turned back to the king.

"I don't know what to say."

"Say yes."

Say yes to staying here as another adopted daughter of the Coulson family? Say yes to staying here with Leo and finally being happy? Say yes to a life she could only ever dream of?

Tears shimmering in her eyes, Jemma nodded, squeezing Leo's hand in hers as he knelt beside her chair. He beamed up at her as she managed a touched, "yes," and she could feel tears slipping down her cheeks as Skye excitedly ran to get one of her tiaras to "make it official."

The kingdom gladly accepted their new princess, and Jemma couldn't remember a time when she was happier. Of course, eventually the news reached her parents, and they were horrified. They were humiliated. Their reign crumbled without an heir to their throne, and Jemma couldn't say she was sad to receive the news. She was too busy beaming at the fact that it was her Nanny, Leo's mother, who delivered it, whilst embracing her son for the first time in eight years.

For the first time in her life, everything was perfect. There were no secret plots being made behind her back by her new family- well, save the one Skye had devised to help Leo propose.

Exactly a year later, on the day she came of age, Jemma married as she had been intended to. But she didn't marry for laws or inheritance or the sake of a kingdom's future; she married because she was a girl in love, and a wedding on her birthday had seemed like a pretty swell idea to everyone.

It even snowed. In July. Who knows how that happened?

But do you know what the best part was?

_They lived happily ever after. _


End file.
